


Osteology

by Jhonnies



Series: Ficlets Studies [1]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jhonnies/pseuds/Jhonnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ten ficlets, focusing on the Jeffersonian men and their relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Osteology

**Author's Note:**

> I have officially gone insane.  
> I stumbled on a writing exercise which had 50 prompts. So I did all of them. (Divided into 5 different fandoms; Bones, Eureka, Grimm, Lie to Me and Warehouse 13).  
> (The others are just waiting to be typed.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or any of the characters. (If I did, you’d know).

**Soft**

Seeley Booth likes to mess up Zack's hair whenever he's nervous.

It's therapeutic.

The first time he gave in to his impulses to run his hand through the squint's shaggy mane was during their first case with Howard Epps. To say that the others were shocked is to be obvious.

Zack, on the other hand, was not very surprised by the event, as sometimes he'd seen the FBI agent's hands twitch in his presence. And, well... It was nice to have someone willing to touch you.

And he also knew that the former sniper needed it.

The squint wasn't the only one who noticed that Booth started snapping more after he'd have to cut his hair extra short to apply for a job at the Jeffersonian.

However, he was the only one who noticed that after his hair had returned to its long shaggy self (Cam ordered him to grow it out), the agent's touch was softer. So when Booth cornered him one night and kissed him as gently as the hand which ran through his hair, he expected it. And welcomed it.

Both agreed it was a long time coming.

* * *

**Home**

If asked whether he missed England, Vincent would smile and say ‘To a certain degree. Although I have so many things to do here in Washington, it’s very distracting.’

Truth was he didn’t miss it at all.

He wasn’t homesick because he’d found another home. Two, in fact. One is the Jeffersonian; the other, the house he shares with Wendell.

He isn’t exactly sure when he found this new family, but he suspects it was around the time when Zack adopted him as his best friend. Or maybe when he was made one of his assistants.

But he is absolutely certain of the moment when he and Wendell became family. It was during the journey between the bed and the breakfast table on the day of their first time together.

* * *

**Sex**

Colin Fisher slipped out of his jeans,  while Sweets crawled over and took hold of his cock. The forensic anthropologist pushed his lover’s head towards his crotch. He took it deep into his mouth,  making the older man moan and play with his hair.

It would surprise anyone else, but Fisher was a very tender lover, at least with Lance.

“Lance!”

“What?” – He pulled back. – “Too much?”

A nod was his only answer.

The psychologist allowed his lover to regain his composure while he searched for the lube. Colin received the small translucent bottle and was about to pour it on his fingers when a thought crossed his mind:

“This won’t stain the couch, right? I’d hate to miss your blush whenever you’d have to explain to your patients why there is a weird stain on the couch they’re sitting on.”

Picturing the scene described by his lover had the desired effect on the psychologist, tinting his face pink.

“No, it won’t.”

“Good.”

A sweet kiss, a gentle press of their lips together broke the urgency both men felt. It was soft,  allowing Sweets to cloud his lover’s mind just enough to pull him on top of him without the scruffy man realizing he’d given up control.

“Please?” – Sometimes he needed this. Letting his mind go as someone took care of him.

“Don’t worry; I know how to treat you right.”

He’d exposed his ass to make it easier for his lover to get on with the program. With his fingers glistening with lube, Fisher rubbed them around, before sticking one inside Lance. His non-sticky hand kept stroking Sweets’ face, calming him as he leaned towards the touch, ignoring the pain and feeling only the pleasure.

The faint smell of latex clung to his hand.

The psychologist had learned to love that particular scent.

After playing with his hole for a while, opening him up the moans got louder and the squirming got more persistent. The moment he started pushing against the fingers, Fisher knew he was ready for the real thing. He removed his fingers, got up and walked to where his jeans were; extracted a condom from his front pocket and rolled it on his dick. Coming back to the couch, he guided his stiff cock head to the entrance.

Slowly forcing it into the twitching tight hole, elicited a long drawn out moan from the psychologist. With him halfway up the shaft, Colin stopped and held perfectly still so that Lance could adjust to his cock.

“Come on, move!”

“You sure?”

“I’m not a woman, I’m sure I can take it.”

“Last time you said that you couldn’t walk for two days.”

“And you never let me forget it.”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I did?”

“The good kind!”

He rolled his eyes but complied, pushing his cock in all the way, slapping against the smooth, round, white ass.

The hands stopped their soothing motion and started to stroke the hardness between the two men. Matching the strokes in time with his thrusts, Fisher sent his lover to the edge of orgasm.

A passionate kiss, the kind that left his face marked red where Colin’s beard scratched him, sent him over the edge. The other man wasn’t far behind.

With a manly growl, he collapsed on top of his lover. He shifted a little, settling down by Sweets’ side. He removed the filled condom, tied it up and threw it into the trashcan.

“You okay?”

“Uh- yes. Very okay.”

A knock on the door interrupted their afterglow.

“Hey, Sweets, why is your door locked?”

 Instead of allowing his lover to get up and dressed, Fisher was his usual charming self in answering Agent Booth.

“He’s busy. Come back later. Or not at all.”

Yup.

The blushing was priceless.

* * *

**Happiness**   


Zack had Parker on his shoulders, so that the boy could pick up an apple while Booth watched the pair from the park bench they’d been sitting on. The FBI agent smiled as the two people he loved the most joined him. (After a quick stop to wash the pome).

“Are you sure that it doesn’t have a worm in it or anything?”

“Yes, Seeley. Its mass and weigh are consistent with non-infected apples.”

He knew better than to doubt his squint.

“Alright. Eat away.” – Parker obeyed his father, munching faster than most humans. – “Hey. Hey. You’re gonna get a stomachache.”

“Did you know that the apple in the original Snow White tale wasn’t completely red?” – It was a complicity tact that Zack employed to divert his lover’s attention from Parker. – “It had a white half and a poisoned crimson half. Although, all apples are poisonous to a degree. The seeds contain cyanogenic glycoside. Ingesting small amounts of apple seeds will cause no effects, but in extremely large doses can cause adverse reactions.”

“I love when you talk squinty to me.”

After Mini-Booth had finished with his pome, they shared a conspiratory wink.

 

* * *

 

**Hell**

To Vincent, there is nothing better than reading to Wendell. With the bigger man completely wrapped around him, listen intently to Dante’s Inferno. The Brit smiled and even did voices for the characters.

Not even his pauses to give facts about the many inhabitants of hell made the American squint bored, or wanting to stop the reading.

This was far from physical; it was a meeting of their souls.

It was one of the times the hockey player let his walls come down; and it was only because he knew that Vincent wouldn’t hurt him. Too much love and care had been sewn onto their bond for that to happen.

Right there and then, Wendell decided to ask what had been on his mind the entire week.

“Vince.”

“Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will.”

The proposal didn’t need diamond rings or getting down on one knee, but it ended up being the most romantic possible.

  

* * *

 

**Wind**

Proud. That was how Lance felt of himself. He managed to achieve what he thought impossible. Drag Fisher to a beach. On a sunny day, no less.

“Why did you bring me here? I hate bright lights, I’m too white to go outside.”

“Because it’s nice to get out of home every once in a while.” – Sweets looked at the white sand, at the blue waves, at the people swimming. Basically, everywhere except his lover’s face.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have taught you how to read body language.” – The psychologist sighed. – “I used to come here after.”

“After your adoptive parents beat you.” – At the younger man’s flinch, Fisher changed his tone. – “And you trust me enough to bring me here? I see you sustained brain damage.”

Sweets gave an awkward laugh. It still amazed him that Colin didn’t tiptoe around the subject like most people do, but me jokes.

The wind messed with his hair as the forensic anthropologist led him through the barracks on the sand.

* * *

**Innocence**

It was a lazy Sunday for Zack and Booth; they had no cases that needed solving, so they were just taking it easy. The FBI agent was at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of coffee and his crossword puzzle while his lover and Parker made bottle rockets in the living room. (Under strict warnings not to launch it inside the house).

Don’t put too much fuel in it, or else it’s going to explode.”

“Can’t we do that?”

“Just with one.”

“Yay!”

“Zack?” – Booth called out from the kitchen.

“Yes, Seeley?”

“Sulfuric acid, seven letters.”

“Vitriol.”

“Thanks.”

While the squint focused on answering his lover, Parker finished filling up the rockets, obeying the advice he’d been told.

“Let’s go outside, Zack!”

“Alright, you go on ahead. I have to get the matches.” – The forensic anthropologist ducked into the kitchen of the house he shared with his lover. – “Come watch, Parker is very excited about it.”

“I will, I just have to finish this.”

Zack simply glanced at the newspaper.

“Expansion, grouse, loupe, nihilism and 13 across is innocence.”

After filling in the answers, he closed the paper with a sigh.

“Ever since we moved in together I haven’t been able to finish one of these.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.” – Parker knocked on the door leading to the backyard, to hurry them up. – “It’s nice.” – Booth grabbed his squint’ hand and went outside.

 

* * *

 

**Fear**

A little known fact about Vincent is that he loves horror movies. Wendell isn’t too keen on watching them with his husband. It’s not that he’s scared, it’s just that he prefers comedies.

(Not that he was scared. He wasn’t. Really. Okay, fine. So what if he jumped when Pamela Voorhees killed that girl? That woman was very scary.)

When Vincent wants company to watch his flicks he calls up Zack, Angela and Fisher. And each contributes with their unique brand of commentary.

“No one even has that much blood to lose.”

“Oh my God! Who goes to check on a noise at night in their underwear and heels? She deserves to die.”

“Why doesn’t he cut off her head instead of stabbing her? It would free up some time for the plot to advance.”

The trio of commenters decided to give the couple a movie they'd both enjoy. Scream and its sequels had enough killings to appease Vincent and enough jokes to keep Wendell from running away. They loved the gift.

* * *

**Lightning/Thunder**   


Sweets was scared of thunder. It’s a weakness he doesn’t like to admit, but whenever a storm happened to appear he would barricade himself in a place with no windows and put his MP3 player as loud as it would go. (Yes, he still had his MP3. It still worked, so why would he buy an iPod?).

Fisher wasn’t the first to find it out, but he was the first to do something about it.

The next time there was a thunderstorm, he hitched a ride to the FBI building with Booth. The squint was at his lover’s office, waiting for him. Hot light ripped through the sky, quickly followed by the dreaded thunder.

Frantic footsteps approached and Sweets soon burst into the office.

“Colin? What are you doing here?”

Another roar shook the office, making the younger man to flinch slightly and curl up on himself.

“This.” – He grabbed his lover by his tie, pulling him into a kiss. Lance forgot all about his surroundings as he felt Fisher’s beard scratching him. – “Better?”

“I-uh… Okay. What?”

“Monosyllabic babble. I’ve still got it.” – He sat down on the couch before pulling Sweets onto his lap. – “Thunder scares you, so I’m changing your association. Now thunder equals making out.”

“Oh? You’ve been reading Pavlov’s work, right?”

“Same idea, yes-”

He was cut by another crackling sound, prompting him to kiss his lover again.

 

* * *

**Completion**   


Sweets approached the two squints currently working on the newest French revolution skeleton.

"Good evening, Lance."

"Hey, Vince. Zack."

"Are we still on for tonight?" - The brown haired anthropologist asked without raising his eyes from the skull he held in his hands. To anyone it might seem as disrespectful but the psychologist knew that it was because his friend genuinely cared about whoever was on the table. - "Or are you here to cancel?"

"No, no. Puzzle night at my house, same as always. It's just that I finished with my patients earlier, so I decided to wait for you guys here."

"I do not believe we'll take long, we simply have to finish putting facial markers."

At closing time, Booth came by to see Zack and to pick up Fisher and Wendell to watch a football game at his house. It was a nice deal they all had. Spending one night a week with other like-minded men.

Sweets, Vincent and Zack would place two thousand pieces puzzles together while their respective lovers acted like complete testosterone-filled morons.

"It's a very beautiful image. Alphonse Mucha?" - The Brit asked his best friend.

"Yes. The Four Seasons. It's my favorite painting of his."

"Do you know what that says about you?" - Both squints threw the pieces they were holding at the psychologist. - "Fine, no analyzing."

When their gazes met, all three men started laughing, each with their shy way.


End file.
